


Kneel For Your King

by PrincessMisery86



Category: Black Panther (2018), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cocky Erik Killmonger, Demanding Erik Stevens, Erik Being Cocky, Erik Killmonger Stevens Smut, Erik Stevens Queen, Erik Stevens is a dick, Erik Stevens smut, F/M, Killmonger Smut, Killmonger is a dick, Killmongers Queen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMisery86/pseuds/PrincessMisery86
Summary: Erik is King and every King needs a Queen. And what better queen than you? You’ve been friends forever but it’s Erik, you know it’s not about love but what’s better; ruling beside him or being ruled by him?Warnings: smut, language, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (p in v. Wrap before you tap), fight for dominance, canon type violence, Erik’s a dick (that’s canon too), reader is a snarky bitch. There’s no love in this fic, if you’re looking for love you won’t find it here.Notes: I know they don’t bow in Wakanda - “We don’t do that here” -  but Erik is a controlling dick so go with it.Characters: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens, Unnamed fem!reader (she/her/Y.N), W’Kabi.Pairing: Erik x unnamed fem!reader (she/her/Y.N)
Relationships: Erik Killmonger & Reader, Erik Killmonger/Reader, Erik Stevens x You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Kneel For Your King

**Summary**: Erik is King and every King needs a Queen. And what better queen than you? You’ve been friends forever but it’s Erik, you know it’s not about love but what’s better; ruling beside him or being ruled by him?  
**Warnings**: smut, language, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (p in v. Wrap before you tap), fight for dominance, canon type violence, Erik’s a dick (that’s canon too), reader is a snarky bitch. There’s no love in this fic, if you’re looking for love you won’t find it here.  
**W/C:** 5k  
**Notes**: I know they don’t bow in Wakanda - “We don’t do that here” - but Erik is a controlling dick so go with it.  
**Characters**: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens, Unnamed fem!reader (she/her/Y.N), W’Kabi.  
**Pairing**: Erik x unnamed fem!reader (she/her/Y.N)  
**Beta**: @negans-lucille-tblr \- thank you honey. Still all mistakes are my own.   
**Gifs/Pics not mine. **

* * *

##  **Kneel For Your King**

**Erik**: Are you home?

**Y/N**: Yes.

**Erik**: Pack a bag. Essentials only. Roof 30 minutes.

It’s typical Erik style. Don’t hear from him for weeks then he sends cryptic messages demanding she follow his orders. And what the fuck was on the roof?

Despite his lack of manners–though she was used to it by now–she’d packed a bag and was on en-route to the roof of her building with three minutes to spare. The door was stiff with lack of use but with a shove of her shoulder it pushed open.

The sleek black aircraft was already there and Erik stood at the end of its runway a bright smile pulled his lips back to show his perfect white teeth. Y/N’s mouth gaped open in shock and she froze.

Erik took a step toward her and the two stern faced women dressed in red and gold adorning lethal looking spears flanked him. He turned his head to glare over his shoulder and both women stopped with the silent order.

“Three minutes early, I’m impressed,” he smirked dipping to kiss her cheek. “Curiosity obviously makes you move your lazy ass faster.”

“You did it,” said Y/N awestruck as the scene before her finally made sense. “You took the throne.”

“You ever doubt I wouldn’t?”

“No,” she told him without hesitation.

He slipped an arm over her shoulders and guided her toward the plane. “C’mon I wanna show you my Kingdom.”

* * *

Y/N sat on the large plush bed running her palm flat over the unfamiliar fabric, it was softer than silk and she couldn’t wait to feel it on her skin when she climbed under the sheets.

The day had been overwhelmingly unfamiliar. Wakanda was something else, she couldn’t even begin to describe it. Erik gave her a tour and just when she thought there couldn’t be any more to see he took her somewhere else and it was just as breathtakingly beautiful as the last.

Dinner had been a welcome chance to sit down and try to fathom everything she’d seen. Though the feast was _literally _fit for a King and the dress Erik had gifted her was something off of a New York Fashion Week runway, sitting down and eating until she couldn’t stomach another bite had been the most normal thing she’d done since she’d been on the roof.

After dinner Erik had had some business he needed to address so she’d been escorted back to her room by two of the Dora Milaje who told her they would be right outside should she need anything.

She was buzzed, the day had been long and full, too much wine and shots of Wakandian rum, she knew she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. She changed out of her dress, washed off her make-up and redressed in her cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

Switching off the light of the bathroom she crossed the room toward the couch and the door swung open as she passed stopping her in her tracks. She snarked, “Ever heard of knocking?” as Erik entered and shut the door behind him.

“Kings don’t knock,” he sneered, “and you’re supposed to bow.” He nodded ever so slightly as if he expected her to do it. 

Her brow cocked as a challenge, “You’re not _my _King,” she sassed, “I bow to no one.”

She’d never seen him move so fast. In less than a blink of her eye he’d closed the distance between them, a hand wrapped around her throat and he pushed her back until she hit the wall.

“E, what the fuck?”

“Bet I could bring you to your knees,” he whispered, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. He pushed his body flush against hers, “with only two fingers, you’d drop to your knees and beg me to be your King.”

She wriggled to try to free herself but his strength overpowered her and all she managed was to grind against him. “Five minutes on a throne and you’re already on a fuckin’ power trip.” she snarled trying to pry his fingers off her neck.

He allowed her to remove his fingers but simply moved his arm to brace against her chest to keep her caged against the wall. He pulled back to look at her, “why’d you think I brought you here, huh?” he asked, “ya think I wanted to show off?”

“Clearly to be a dick,” she tried without success to shove him away, “get off me!”

“I need a Queen,” he advised as if he hadn’t heard her snarled request to be set free. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

She stopped squirming and watched the cocky smirk spread wide across his lips. She wanted to slap the grin from his face.

“Don’t tell me you never thought about this, about _me_.”

“I have,” she admitted unashamedly, “but you weren’t such an _asshole_ and it wasn’t against my will.”

He growled low in his chest and she couldn’t be sure if he was impressed with her attitude or annoyed at her reluctance. “So submit,” he suggested with a small shrug as if it were the most obvious answer.

“No. I’m not something you can take, E.” 

He ignored her and pressed forward to crush her lips with his own. She went limp, pliant and doll-like. He groaned frustrated and moved from her uncooperative mouth to her neck. “Don’t be a brat to prove a point,” said Erik, scraping his teeth over her throat. 

“Brat, bitch, call it what you want.” she shrugged, indifferent, but the slightly breathless gasps between words betrayed her.

He slipped his leg between hers and she had to rise to the tips of her toes to accommodate his large thigh. She felt her own heat against his leg and she fought the urge to grind down to seek the friction she needed.

Erik must have felt it too, her shorts were thin and he pushed his leg up into her. She hissed when it rubbed against her and her hands involuntarily shot to his waist whether to hold him back or hold him in place she wasn’t sure. Her fingers dug into his flesh above the waistband of his sweats as he swirled his leg under her.

“Most girls would kill to be a queen.”

She bit her lip and willed herself to ignore the heat pooling between her legs, to not think about his strong body pressed against her. To forget the fact the arm braced against her chest wasn’t as heavy and she could easily have pushed him away now. “I’m not most girls.”

“That’s damn right,” he praised and he lifted the arm from her chest to frame her face in his hands. “That’s why I want _you _by my side on that throne.”

Erik’s eyes scanned hers, back and forth, searching for any break in her resolve. He took a chance and he leaned in to claim her mouth and this time she met his lips eagerly. She moaned into his mouth when the pressure of his leg disappeared only to be replaced by his hand cupping her entire sex.

She had to break the kiss to suck in a deep breath and she gripped his wrist to pull him away from her. “No, I don’t want this.”

“Yes you do,” he argued, “I can _feel _how much you want this.”

“My body had a reaction to stimulation,” she quipped.

“How sure are you that it was _just _a reaction?” he smirked, running his thumb along her bottom lip, tugging on it a little.

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, she knew that. He wanted to play a game? Fine. She pulled back, a mischievous smirk curling over her lips as she slowly slid her back down the wall, settling on her knees. Erik’s eyes followed her the whole way down, a smug grin dancing across his plump lips. He’d won. She was on her knees.

She reached forward and ran her hands up his legs, looking up at him through her lashes. “This what you want, E?” she asked, biting her bottom lip as she watched his eyes half lid. She could see from her position how his already semi-hard cock started to swell under his pants. She slowly slid her hand over the hardening bulge. “You want me on my knees–” she rubbed a little harder, bringing her face closer, her breath hitting the fabric of his sweatpants and no doubt soaking through to the erection she was teasing, “–you want me to be a good little girl for you?” she purred, “do as I’m told?”

Erik chuckled lowly, reaching back to grab at her hair. “Oh yeah, baby girl,” he hummed, “that’s exactly what I want.”

Y/N smirked harder, slipping her hand away from his crotch and using his hips as leverage to rise to her feet again. “Fuck off, Erik, I’m never going to be your little bitch, no matter how many times you try to dress it up with the title of _Queen_,” she snarked.

Erik’s expression changed in an instant and he gripped the top of her arm. His larger hand wrapped completely around her bicep painfully. Shit, maybe she’d pushed him too far. She thought it had been some half-friendly banter but she’d seen the fury that twisted his features before, though she had never been on the receiving end of it. It scared and thrilled her in equal measure.

[Originally posted by love-music-fashion-flawless](https://tmblr.co/ZPe9uw2XcZ1LK)

There was no point to her resisting, he’d always been stronger but now he had the Black Panther powers he was unstoppable. He dragged her from the room. She didn’t fear him, she knew he wouldn’t force her to fuck him, Erik was many things but abusing a woman in such a way wasn’t in him. However, he had always been forceful in his approach to topics he was passionate about. This was one of them times. Maybe if she didn’t agree to be his Queen he would look weak to his subjects. He needed her to agree willingly but wouldn’t be subtle in his approach.

He paused to bark an order at the guards outside her door “Stay!” Erik waited to ensure they had stopped then turned back to face her.

“You’re hurting me,” she told him but didn’t dare to try to free herself from his grasp.

He released her but stepped into her and flung her over his shoulder. She protested that he was going to drop her on her head but he laughed her off as if it were the most ridiculous thing. He continued to stride down the corridor, a man on a mission, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.

Erik pushed through the door and by the time it had swung shut he’d set her on her feet. She straightened herself up and finally met his eyes, thankfully the fury was gone. The short walk seemed to have cooled him off but she made a mental note to tone down her attitude for fear it would return.

He held her gaze for a moment then walked around her. Y/N followed him and watched him take a seat on his throne. The sight of him surrounded by the polished vibranium, the claw like points reaching high above his head, made her legs involuntarily squeeze shut. He looked good, it suited him. He’d always been a force to be reckoned with but now he oozed power, he looked at home; it was exactly where he belonged and though she’d never admit it to him she did have a slight urge to drop to her knees before him.

Erik wasn’t someone who took no for an answer. He always got what he wanted. Wasn’t someone to be manipulated or controlled. He’d followed orders when he had to but that was only because following those orders served a higher purpose at the time. She’d seen him do unthinkable things, helped him commit unspeakable crimes, not only because he asked but because she didn’t want to disappoint him, she _wanted _to help him get where he was right now.

Y/N had helped him get everything he wanted, so why shouldn’t she rule beside him? It wouldn’t be easy. She wouldn’t be able to control him, no one could, men and women had died trying. But maybe she could be a voice of reason, at least give him pause before he acted. And wasn’t it better to be ruling beside him rather than being ruled by him?

“Together we could rule the world,” he spread his arms wide a mischievous grin pulled back his lips.

“You mean Wakanda right?” she asked strolling to look out of the window.

“Sure, that first.”

Wakanda was even more spectacular at night, lights of all colors sparkled, the stars shone beyond the reach of the dome and she didn’t know what to focus on.

Erik sauntered up beside her, his shoulder brushed hers and she tore her gaze from the beauty outside to look at him. “I sprung this on you, I get it, you need time to adjust,” he took her hand and turned her to face him. “I’m not your King. But I will be _soon_, and you might not believe me now but you’ll submit to me of your own accord.”

“You always have been a cocky son of a bitch.”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true,” he smirked. His shit-eating grin spread across his mouth and he yanked her into him wrapping his arms around her waist. She braced her hands against his chest but didn’t push him away when he dipped to kiss her cheek then whisper in her ear, “I’ll soon have you screaming the whole of Wakanda down ‘_my king, my king_’.” he kissed her cheek softly then let her go.

“Take a minute,” he called over his shoulder and she admired the cock-sure strut that pulled his sweatpants tight around his ass as he crossed the room. “Enjoy the view, try it on for size,” he motioned toward the throne.

She quickly averted her eyes when he turned to her again not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing she had been checking him out. “Goodnight, my Queen.”

“Goodnight, _Erik_.”

* * *

[Originally posted by blxckpnther](https://tmblr.co/ZzSv3b2VMlUSn)

Y/N didn’t like being woken early, liked even less that she’d been summoned. “The King requests your presence for breakfast.”

_Well the **King **can damn well come and get me_ – is the response she’d wanted to give but thought better of it. Simply because she didn’t want Erik to shoot the messenger if he had returned with that particular message. Besides if she showed any form of disobedience maybe Erik would be forced to punish her– _punishment might be fun! Stop it, Y/N. It’s not a good idea._

Her crush on Erik Stevens was nothing new, for as long as they’d been friends she’d felt something more for him. But she wasn’t a pawn in his games, she didn’t want to be his Queen because he _needed _one, she wanted him to want her the same way she wanted him.

The messenger had given her enough time to brush her teeth and change into jeans and a shirt and then escorted her to Erik. She assumed they’d be going to the throne room but they breezed right by and she was shown to the elevator.

The doors opened onto floor thirty and Erik stood at the head of a table in the kitchen area of his penthouse suite.

“Wassup,” he greeted with a broad smile and she felt that was the first time he’d seemed himself since she’d arrived.

Maybe he’d been too buzzed the night before too. The whole ‘rule at my side’ thing was a mistake and the breakfast that spread across the table was his way of apology.

She slowly made her way toward him. “This King gig not come with clothes?” Y/N jested motioning toward the jeans and long black robe he wore that exposed the gold claw necklace and his bare chest.

“New rule,” he started, a devilish grin on his lips, “no clothes in the King’s penthouse.” His brow quirked as he began peeling off the long black cardigan. “Strip.”

She giggled and rolled her eyes, “you wish it were that simple.”

He laughed pulling the garment back up to his shoulders and motioned for her to take a seat to his left. He grabbed a bowl of fruit and used the serving spoon to pile some on his plate and she took the instruction to do the same.

“So you stayed a good hour after I left last night,” Erik stated as she drenched the pancakes and bacon on her plate with maple syrup. She met his eyes and his brow was high like he was questioning that her staying in the throne room meant something more than it did. “You like the feel of the throne?”

“I didn’t sit in it,” she advised him sincerely, “I just stared out the window, thought for a while.”

“About?”

“How to solve world peace,” she jested. She twisted in her seat to face him properly. “Tell me why, E? Why me? Why now?”

“You want me to tell you I love you? That what you wanna hear?” His eyes half-closed and he sighed sarcastically, “I love you, Y/N.”

“Fuck you and fuck love,” she sneered angrily. “I know it’s not about love, but I still need to know - why?”

“I’mma give you a Kingdom, the world, and you’re questionin’ why?” He shook his head and rolled his eyes, “when did you turn into such a _fuckin’_ needy chick?”

“Right around the time you turned into a power-hungry, forceful douchebag.”

His fist slammed down hard on the table and the contents rattled, “I didn’t force anything on you!”

The fury flashed over his eyes again and she swallowed a thick nervous lump as he locked his eyes to hers. She didn’t back down, knew if she shied away he’d see the weakness in it and use it against her.

He heaved a few breaths to get himself under control and then, all of a sudden he was chuckling. Shoulders shaking, he put a fist to his mouth and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “That’s why,” he said, “that right there,” pointing a finger at her as his eyes held hers. “I can see it, you’re scared of me and even though I could do anything to you right now and you could do nothin’ to stop me you still challenged me. You don’t back down. I had you last night, could’ve taken you right there and you _still _fucked with me.”

“So you want me because I’m a masochistic bitch?” she concluded.

He chuckled at her assessment, “I want you because I’ve known you for forever, you’ve never let me down, always had my back.” he smiled, almost fondly. “I have money, power and control now. You wanted me when I was a nobody. I don’t want someone who wants something _from _me. I worked my ass off to get here, and I’m not about to let some freeloader take that shit from me.”

She didn’t get a chance to respond. His communicator bead sounded and he held the kimoyo bead in his palm. W’Kabi appeared on the hologram, “My king,” he respectfully bowed his head then turned to see Y/N.

“Go ahead,” Erik advised W’Kabi when he turned back with a small frown.

Erik’s gaze flicked momentarily to Y/N and she knew it was part of his plan; to show he trusted her enough that she could hear whatever needed to be said. 

W’Kabi bowed again and continued, “We have captured a traitor, the elders have gathered in the throne room but we require you to pass sentence.”

Y/N watched Erik’s jaw tick and his eyes glazed with anger, “I’ll be right there.”

* * *

“E, this is official Wakanda business,” said Y/N scurrying to keep up with his long strides. “I shouldn’t be there.”

He grabbed her hand, interlocked their fingers and kept pace, “I want you there.”

The guards held the double doors open as they rounded the corner and the room hushed to silence as Erik crossed the threshold. Murmurs spread and though she didn’t understand the language Y/N felt her cheeks flush, somehow knowing they were talking about her.

“Silence!” Erik bellowed as he reached the throne and turned to face the room. “She stays!”

Though her suspicion was confirmed that she’d been the cause of the murmurs, the authority Erik exuded was enthralling and she fought to keep a smug smirk from breaking out across her lip when he motioned for her to stand to the right of him. She felt powerful just standing there, knowing Erik wanted her there.

“Bring them to me,” Erik demanded of W’Kabi. He nodded and the man to his left followed him and they disappeared to collect the traitor.

The prisoner fought them as best he could but he was an elderly gentleman, practically skin and bone, shackled at the wrists and ankles he stood no chance against the younger, broader guards. He professed his innocence as they pushed him forward and the bigger of the two shoved him to his knees a foot from Erik’s feet.

Erik didn’t waste a second. He stepped toward the crying man, took the weapon from W’Kabi’s waistband and shot the suspected traitor in the back of the head. Y/N jumped as the shot echoed around the room and though everyone had been silent the room seemed to grow quieter. She stared down at the crumpled body of the man, a small pool of blood growing beneath him.

“I won’t teach this lesson again,” Erik announced handing the gun back to W’Kabi. He turned slowly to catch the eye of every person in the room and finally landing on Y/N he continued his speech. “I waited my whole life to get where I am right now. So I’ve proved I’m a patient man. But there’s only so far people can push me.”

Y/N had received his message loud and clear. It wasn’t only a warning to any would-be traitors, it was a warning to her too. She wasn’t a stranger to death or violence, she’d served her country alongside Erik. But the gunshot and Erik’s speech had activated her fight or flight response. Did she flee and hope he’d let her or did she fight beside him? King and Queen ruling together side by side.

Before she could decide which thought held the most weight Erik had taken her hand and was leading her from the room again.

* * *

Erik pulled her out of the elevator and spun her quickly to stand before him. She could see the post-kill adrenaline behind his eyes. She’d seen it before, felt it herself. He needed more, needed release, more violence and if not that, any form of dominance would do.

“Tell me now, if you’re just gonna waste my time,” he commanded, “If you won’t be my Queen, I’ll find someone who will.”

She felt her own jaw clench at the implication and she wanted to rip this faceless woman limb from limb. She’d always been jealous of any woman he’d ever had on his arm, even though she knew they wouldn’t be there for long. Erik was hard to handle, it took a special kind of woman to deal with him. The women he chose were arm candy, a warm body to bury himself in. They were only to fill a need and nothing more, but her blood would still boil when she saw him with his flavour of the week.

He smirked and she desperately wanted to bite it from his lips. “But I can see you don’t want that.” He inched closer, nose brushing hers and his lips ghosted her own as he spoke, “so what will it be?” he whispered. “Will you bow to your king?”

She drew a deep breath before deciding to give in to her desire and took his bottom lip between her teeth. She sucked and nipped it hard before letting it pop back. Erik pulled away, a finger pressed to his lip to check for blood and as his brow creased with anger she slowly lowered to her knees looking up at him the whole time.

“Not sure this is bowing but I’m on my knees,” she snarked unfastening the button on his jeans.

He grabbed her chin, painfully and jerked her head to look up at him, “don’t test my limits.”

She held his gaze, not that she had much of a choice from the grip on her chin. She pulled down his zipper, hooked her thumbs into his waistband and found only his jeans in place, no boxers. She pushed his jeans down to his knees freeing his hardening cock. “Kinda wanna know what happens if I push you _passed _your limits,” she whispered half-lidded eyes fluttering from his face to growing erection.

“I forgot,” he smirked playfully, “masochistic bitch.”

Y/N knew he wouldn’t let her go until he was sure she wasn’t teasing him again, she ran her hands down his thighs, scratched her nails back up and dug into the flesh of hips. 

He jutted his chin out, “do somethin’,” he challenged but continued to hold her in place.

She smoothed her palms flat across his stomach, scraped her nails from his navel to his shaft and gripped him hard enough to draw a hissed sneer from him. She ignored it, held his eyes and stuck out her tongue placing the end of his cock on the flat of it.

His grip loosened but didn’t fall, she hadn’t proven herself - yet. She swirled her tongue around the tip and savoured the salty tang of his pre-cum.

“Do somethin’,” she echoed his challenge and he quirked his brow as if questioning what it was he should do. She answered his silent question, “fuck my face or let me go so I can do it myself.”

Erik’s hand shot from her chin to grab a fistful of her hair, his other hand held his cock and he eased it past her lips.

He paused when he reached the back of her throat, she swallowed around him and she watched his pupils blow, his irises all but disappeared and she took it as her cue to move.

She pushed forward and dragged back, grazing her teeth over his length. He held a firm grip in her hair, but allowed her the room she needed to pop him softly from her mouth. She took a breath and rolled her tongue around his tip, then licked her own saliva from tip to shaft, her fingers wrapped around the base followed her mouth as she drew back.

Y/N returned his cock to the back of her throat and she hummed softly around him. Erik’s head tipped back and he moaned, hungry and needy, toward the ceiling. She dived in, set a fast and relentless pace, her hand chased her mouth as she pulled back, her lips chased her fingers clasped around him when she moved forward, her other hand fondled his balls and he rocked his hips to meet her movements.

Every thrust pushed his dick to the very back of her throat and he’d withdraw just before he triggered her gag reflex. Tears streamed from her eyes and she struggled to get enough air through her nose but the noises he moaned and the way he groaned her name as a pleaded prayer was too delicious for her to stop.

She added a slight twist to her wrist movement and she felt his balls tense in her hand.

“Fuck Y/N,” growled Erik and his thrusts increased in speed. “Y/N, shit.”

His grip in her hair became painful as he held her in place to fuck into her mouth to spill all he had to offer. She felt his hot cum shoot down her throat and swallowed as much as she could but it still dripped down her chin.

“So fuckin’ good, baby girl.”

She spluttered around him and he released her taking a step back. She dropped to her hands and knees, gasping for breath.

“That’s a good look on you,” he praised, smirking down at her, he tucked himself back into his jeans, “bowing to your king.”

She regained her breath, climbed to her feet and strutted backwards to be able to keep her eyes on him. “Yeah, but it was you saying _my _name.”

Y/N winked and turned her back on him to pick up a napkin to clean herself up. His approach was soundless, Erik’s body was just suddenly pressed up against her back.

“Ow, fuck E,” she whined as his teeth sunk into the juncture where her neck met her shoulder and he bit down, sucking a mark into her flesh while his swift hands unfastened her jeans.

Erik’s hand slipped easily into the front of her jeans and panties, he ran two large fingers through her folds and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her neck.

“Fuck, tasting me really got you wet.”

Y/N hummed as he ran his fingers up and down, rounded her pulsing clit and then circled her entrance.

His fingers continued their teasing without entering her or giving her the steady friction she needed. “Erik, do somethin’ or I’m gonna do it myself!”

“Say it.”

Her mouth curled into a mischievous smirk, clearly her allowing him to fuck her face hadn’t been enough submission for him. He needed more and she was loathed to give it to him. “Say what?”

“You know what,” he commanded his free hand wrapping around her throat.

She tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder, “I’ll say it,” she agreed and shucked her own jeans and panties down her thighs. “But you want me to scream it?” She questioned putting her hand behind her back into his open pants to take hold of his soft cock. “_Make _me, _my King_.”

His cock grew in her grip and he pushed two fingers inside of her pussy, stealing her breath. “Bend over,” he demanded and she wasted no time knocking the plates closest to her to the floor to clear space for her to lie with her cheek flat against the cool glass.

He removed his scissoring fingers and she watched over her shoulder as he pushed his jeans down enough to free his erection. He ran the tip once through her folds to coat it with her slick and then shoved his entire length inside her cunt with one hard thrust.

The force of it made the remaining plates clatter and clang but the sound was drowned out by her scream. Erik leaned over her, lips close to her ear, “say it.”

She heaved her breaths, “my King,” she rasped.

He stood straight and took hold of her hips, fingers digging into her and he used them as handles to push and pull her at his will. He dragged slowly back until his cock was almost completely out, then plunged forward again, burying himself to the hilt.

Erik’s pelvis crashed into Y/N’s ass over and over again. The table was going to leave bruises where her legs smashed into it repeatedly, she could already feel them forming under where his fingers dug into her skin and within minutes she was coming all over his cock. Taking a shuddered breath, she felt it trickle down her thighs.

Y/N had never been fucked so properly in all her life, the mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating and she needed more. Erik growled when she continued to clench around him, riding the high of her first orgasm straight into her second.

“Harder,” she demanded loudly but Erik seemed to ignore her, until she added, “my King!”

He pounded her into the table and understanding it was the motivation he needed with every thrust she screamed a cursed, “my king.” By the time her third orgasm ripped from her with a strangled moan her voice had become hoarse and scratchy, syllables getting lost in broken cries.

Y/N raised up to lay her palms flat on the table and caught a glimpse of Erik’s reflection in the red gloss sheen on the kitchen cabinets. He looked beautiful, face twisted with lust, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, his chest rippled and flexed as he pushed and pulled her hips.

“Fuck my King looks good,” she groaned breathlessly and he looked up to catch her eye in the reflection.

“Cum for your King,” he ordered.

Y/N obeyed rubbing hard, fast circles on her clit and as her walls clenched to release her fourth climax, Erik grunted loudly and filled her with his cum. He collapsed on top of her. She could feel the sweat from his chest seep through her shirt and their combined climaxes dripped from her pussy.

He panted to catch his breath but promised, “That was good, but I’m sure I can make you louder, _my Queen_.”

End. 


End file.
